Authors: L. M. Roth
The days at
sea flew by rapidly, and before Cort knew it August had come. He had enjoyed
traveling with Siv and his mother, and they had reveled in the splash of the
waves against the boat, the tang of the salty air, and the sight of the
occasional playful porpoise that disported itself in leaps through the air
alongside the ship. He and Siv lingered in the glorious sunsets, their arms
wrapped around one another, and sighed in bliss at the beauty displayed before
them.
The first few
stops passed uneventfully: the ship merely pulled into harbor for a few hours
to take on her cargo, and there was little time to go ashore longer than to
stretch their legs briefly before time to embark again. Brit did not mind so
much as Cort and Siv, but they were young and wished to explore before
returning to sea once more.
One small
island where the ship took on a load of spices intrigued both of them. It was
not large, having a circumference of perhaps five miles, with nothing unusual
about its golden sands lapped by turquoise waves and palm trees swaying gently
in a warm breeze. But the air was redolent with the fragrances of cinnamon,
cloves, and other aromas that Cort could not put a name to. He inhaled deeply,
feeling he had never smelled anything more delightful, an opinion in which Siv
heartily concurred.
Their stay was
only for an hour, however, and they quickly continued their voyage. The ship
carried them briskly from one destination to another taking them south to
tropical lands unknown even to Cort, and then on a northern course once more.
It was on a
day late in August when gray clouds raced overhead that they called at the
small island country of Darian, a land where distant mountains tinged with
purple mist beckoned the traveler to come and explore its glories. From the
shore the land looked desolate, but the Captain informed Cort that the
inhabitants lived further inland, as the gales that plagued the coast at
certain seasons made living conditions harsh and unpleasant, especially in the
dead of winter.
For some mystifying
reason, Cort felt drawn to this land. How beautiful it was; the mountains rose
only a mile or two in height and from the shore he could glimpse inland
waterfalls that cascaded from the hills. As they circled around to the other
side he saw rugged outcroppings and streams of clear water. A sunbeam broke
through the clouds at that moment, bathing the land in a soft clear light that
lent an aura of divine favor to the isle that was in stark contrast to the sea
around it, a cold slate blue that lapped roughly on the shore. The entire
effect was of a place untouched by man, wild and remote. He had never heard of
this land in any of his previous travels, and asked the Captain what he knew of
it.
“Ah, a fair
land it is,” he agreed as he rubbed the stubble on his chin. “But not
friendly.”
And he
dismissed Cort’s questions with an abrupt shake of his head. Cort, however, was
not to be deterred. The land intrigued him, as did his sense of being drawn to
it.
“What do you
mean, it is not friendly?” he asked. “Are the inhabitants hostile to strangers?
Are they dangerous? If that is so, how do they do trade with other countries?”
“The people
are aloof,” the Captain replied. “They believe they are descended from gods who
came to earth long ago. They say that for many generations of men they were
happy in their land, and ruled it in justice and mercy. Sickness and disease
was unknown to them, for their land had been blessed with every healing herb.
But they say that a stranger long ago came to their shores and corrupted their
people and destroyed their divine heritage. Now they have no communication with
others except for the trade that is necessary to ensure the survival of their
people.”
“That sounds
like an intriguing story,” Cort said. “Tell me; who was the stranger that came
to them, and how did he corrupt their people?”
“I know not,”
the Captain answered. “The legend is that the daughters of the king married
with the sons of this man and the divine strain was tainted with lesser blood.
There are many versions of this story, but the people of Darian do not mix with
other peoples, and so the full truth is not told.”
Cort digested
this statement in silence but with a rising tide of curiosity. How he longed to
visit this land and meet the people!
The Captain
continued.
“We shall take
on a load of herbs and healing oils here; for they produce the finest in the
world.”
Cort ambled
along the shore of Darian. They had landed on the greener side of the island
where a pier had been constructed for the convenience of the ships which came
to trade with the people. Cort told Siv what the Captain had related to him,
and she also was eager to see something of this mysterious land. Brit was
nursing a lingering cold and decided to stay in her cabin and rest.
There was a
cluster of stalls along the shore that reminded Cort of the stalls in the
fishing village of Annick where he had met his brother Brenus many years ago.
Tears stung his eyes as the unexpected memory came unbidden to his mind. How he
missed him! Would the ache never leave him, but remain in his heart til the end
of his days?
He was sobered
by the thought, and Siv was quick to catch his change of mood. She said
nothing, but put her arm through his and strolled along beside him. Cort was
soothed by the presence of his wife, and took comfort in her gentle sympathy.
They soon came
to the stalls, and with the swift changes of mood for which Cort was known, he
was caught up at once in the investigation of their wares. One peddler held up
a vial of some sweet smelling fragrance to him: would he like to buy it for his
lady? he was asked.
Siv smelled it
and let out a sigh of delight.
“How lovely!”
she breathed. “What is it?”
The peddler,
sniffing the aroma of a potential sale, gave her an ingratiating smile, and
answered her with eagerness in his voice.
“It is mint, a
very rare form of it. One whiff will cure headache and lift the spirits. I have
many oils that will heal many ailments. What does the lady desire? For I am
sure that I have it among my wares.”
Siv glanced at
Cort: surely there was nothing wrong with an oil that brought a cure. It was
surely different from a potion that had been enchanted with a spell spoken by a
sorcerer. Wasn’t it?
Cort hesitated
but felt no resistance in his spirit. It was true that Dominio had given many
plants and herbs for medicine, and he could not discern anything evil in the
vial offered to Siv. He nodded his head and paid the peddler.
Siv was
delighted and asked him if he had any cure for a cold. Her mother-in-law, she explained,
had a particularly severe one that was causing considerable discomfort. Did he
have any such treatment?
“But yes!” the
peddler exclaimed. “Tell her to take jut one drop of this oil. It is from the
haleo berry, which grows in our mountains. It will heal anything, no matter
what the ailment, whether it be a mere cold, or a life threatening illness. I
have even seen it repair wounded flesh. My boy was bitten by a dog, and I
applied one drop and in no time the flesh was made whole again!”
Cort looked skeptical
at this last statement, but there was a way to determine whether the peddler
spoke the truth. Only that morning he had scraped his finger on the wooden rail
of the ship as he grasped it during their disembarkment. He decided to test the
oil.
He held up his
finger and asked the peddler to apply a drop. With delight the man did so, and
he joined Cort and Siv in anticipation of the results. They were far better
than Cort expected.
He caught his
breath as the scrape, which had already turned red, seemed to disappear even as
he gazed at it, and the angry red faded to a faint pink before blending in with
the tone of his skin.
“That is
amazing!” he marveled.
He turned to
Siv and they laughed in sheer delight.
“Yes,” he said
to the peddler, “we will buy it. And the mint also.”
When they
boarded the ship, Siv hurried to Brit’s side and administered the dose to her
mother-in-law. The cough that had plagued her and kept her awake at night
stopped, and her head immediately cleared of the congestion that had made her
days miserable. The hoarseness of her voice was soothed, and she bestowed a
grateful smile on Siv.
“Oh, how
wonderful it is to breathe freely,” she sighed. “What did you give me,
daughter?”
“A healing
oil, from a strange land,” Siv replied.
“Yes indeed,”
Cort chimed in. “And it is my intention that we shall return there one day to
investigate it further. But now we must journey on until we come to the
destination that Dominio has for us at present.”
The days grew
hot again with skies that turned a bright, hard blue, their cloudless state
offering no relief from the unrelenting sun that seemed always to hang directly
overhead, and beat down on them mercilessly as if to punish them for wrongs
unknown. They journeyed on, and a day came when Cort spied a strange shape on
the water not far from land. They were traveling a few miles off the fertile
coast of a country unknown to him, and one that was not on the ship’s
itinerary.
The Captain
had decided to keep close to shore because the storms of late August that
heralded the imminence of autumn were about to descend and he did not want to
be caught at sea when a gale blew up. Better to stick close to land, though
well out to sea, and not be in the middle of the ocean with no harbor to
shelter them.
Thus it was
that on this sultry day, when the air was heavy, and sweat from his brow
traveled unimpeded to his lip that Cort saw the object that would expedite him
and his family to their destination.
He was
standing at the rail trying in vain to catch a breath of air, when he noticed a
large dark shape not far off the starboard. He leaned over the rail to get a
better look, when suddenly it rose up before him in a long and terrifying
ascent from the water. It seemed to fill the sky as it rose higher and higher
in the water. Later he would estimate the creature at a length of about seventy
to eighty feet, larger than any creature he had ever seen.
Just at that
moment the lookout spied it also and raised the alarm.
“Whale, right
ahead! Everyone take cover!”
Cort searched
frantically for his wife and mother. He found them in their cabin and hurried
them to the deck above. It would not be wise to be caught below if any
collision ensued, he told them; for they would be trapped and would drown in
the rush of water that would fill the hold. Brit managed to collect their
bundles; she did not desire that they be destitute if any harm to the ship left
them adrift, she explained.
They scrambled
above and saw that the whale was now directly in their path. The crew were all
scurrying about with no purpose that Cort could detect, but the Captain was
twirling the wheel in a desperate attempt to steer clear of the massive
creature that now lay in wait for them and threatened their destruction.
But with a
sickening sound of splintering wood Cort knew it was too late. He grabbed the
hands of Siv and Brit and hunkered down with them on the deck as planks flew up
around them. The lookout fell with a shriek from the crow’s nest and lay still
and unmoving. The Captain was left with a wheel in his hands that was no longer
attached to its mooring, and with a stunned face gave the order to evacuate the
ship.
The crew
scrambled to unload some smaller boats that were piled on the aft side. The
ship was now taking on water so fast that a list was noticeable. Cort took one
look at the rapidly descending deck and the feeble attempts of the crew to
loose the boats, securely fastened to their berths. And he decided not to wait
for the crew.
“Quickly,
follow me!” he urged his wife and mother.
He hurried to
the front of the ship where a section of planking had detached itself and now
formed a small raft. He managed to grab a corner of it and pull it closer. He
hastily deposited Siv on the top, then Brit, and he climbed up on it last of
all.
“Take one of
those loose boards that you see floating around and row with it,” he instructed
Siv.
She followed
the direction of his pointing finger and clutched at the nearest one. He lunged
for another and together they pulled for the shore they saw nearby. There was
no sign of the whale that had destroyed the ship. They could see the Captain
and crew still trying to unload the smaller boats when the deck slipped below
the water and spilled them all into the sea.
Cort groaned;
he and Siv prayed for their safety, but wasted no time in ensuring their own.
They pulled on the boards and rowed together as one. Brit held onto the raft
with a white face but did not complain or cry out. In a shorter time than he
would have imagined possible they reached the coast of the land they had seen
in the distance. Within an hour of the shipwreck they landed on its shores and
walked safely along the beach.
Now that Cort
was on the land itself he was able to discern the country in which they now found
themselves. He had never seen it from the shore, always having journeyed from
inland to reach it, and so had not recognized the coastline.
It was
Gaudereaux.
When they
realized where they were, Cort decided that they should hasten to an inn where
they could change into dry clothes and collect their bearings before planning
their course. They did so at once, and Brit felt that she needed to take a
brief nap to rest from the excitement of the morning. Siv thought this an
excellent plan, and said she would join her, leaving Cort to entertain himself.
He was not
long at a loss for plans on how to do so. He reasoned that Dominio had allowed
the wreck to the ship to deliver them onto the shores of Gaudereaux. He took a
walk along the coastline, and discovered to his relief that many of the crew
along with the Captain had now made it to the shore as well.
They never did
succeed in unloading the boats from their berths, but the pressure of the water
when it overtook the ship had succeeded in dislodging the boats, and they were
able to seat themselves in the ones that landed upright, and straddle those
that turned over in the water. After a roll call they discovered that no hands
were lost except the lookout, and the Captain said it was no surprise
considering how far he fell. But he should have been more alert and spotted the
creature sooner: were it not for that the collision might have been avoided
entirely.
Cort did not
offer an opinion, but merely congratulated them on their narrow escape from a
watery grave. They would stay here, the Captain said, until they could book
passage on another ship and return to Valerium. He could notify Cort when he
had news of that. Cort nodded, but did not comment or commit himself to the
plan. He did not know how long he would be in Gaudereaux, but he did not feel
he was to continue with the Captain and the crew on their return to Valerium.
He was
prepared to continue his journey, and to take willingly whatever adventure
Dominio sent to him.
It had been
many years since Cort had seen the villa he now looked upon in the lush green
valley below. He had been only a small boy when he had traveled with Dag and
Marcus as they had attempted to appease the Empress Aurora and bring back the
objects she demanded from their quest. And the land before him was one to which
he had never wanted to willingly return.
Now he had
been led here in a most dramatic fashion. Even as he beheld the luxuriant
panorama below him, he dreaded the interview to come, one that he could not
avoid.
For he knew in
his heart that the purpose of this unplanned visit to Gaudereaux was to call on
Pascal and Gaelle, the parents of Fanchon, who had been his hosts so long ago.
And here he
would discover the truth behind the tale that had been told him by Fanchon’s
daughter, who had come to Eirinia and wreaked pain and destruction on the man
she held responsible for her death.